Tuesday, June 19, 2012


e modern


"we drove farther 
into the mountains,
and then 
drove some more; 
to where my niece lives 
with her husband hal
and their two young boys
high high in the hills
where the snow holds 
in the gullies until June
and where the elk summer 
between the storms."
there is a man walking in the asian park
below my window,
he has a garbage bag rain coat
and what looks like a large zip lock baggie
over his head, the rain is not so bad
but you never know,
this is the deep south.
i am somewhere 
between some things today,
i am somehow 
beyond some things today,
i am somewhat 
available to some things 
today, i am only myself 
in relation to all such things 
today. 

i saw that coming, the mountains, 
if not for us, for her; 
the high mountains 
the high new mexican mountains,
the high northern new mexican mountains,
the sangre de cristo
montagne. 

those hills, valleys,                                                          (little e 1975)
and rivers
      (picuris, llano, santa barbara,
trampas, vargo, truchas)
hold her face like a frame,
and there is a smell 
of piñon wood smoke, 
with the boys, and the animals, 
the stove, and the basin:
the love contained in vessels.
                           (june 2012)                    
                                                                                               
paoloreed@gmail.com


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